The Old Man on the Mountain
by Toph the Trickster
Summary: The identity of Fareeha's father was always somewhat of a mystery, and neither her grandparents nor her mother ever spoke of him much. Ana never found it necessary. After all, Justice could always speak for itself. (A Tale told in snippets of no particular order)
1. Currywurst

**The Old Man on the Mountain**

 _By_

 _Toph the Trickster_

 **Currywurst**

Ah, that was a familiar smell. Ana always found it hard to forget.

"Currywurst?"

"Yes, Mama?" Came the answer from her daughter. Little Fareeha was munching on a platter of sausages that she had apparently toasted in the kitchen, if the mess was anything to go by.

It was a good thing Ana's parents were out of town for the weekend on a trip to Giza.

"When did you get currywurst?"

"I got some when we were at the market earlier, Mama." Fareeha was silent for a period. "It tastes good, Mama." She raised a sausage and offered Ana the plate. "I'm sorry for the smell, I'll try to fix it."

Ana could only smile, and gave her daughter a pat on the head. Bending down, she took a bite from the sausage on her daughter's fork.

With the taste, memories flooded her mind. Memories of times gone by, before war, before Overwatch…

Before Fareeha.

"It's okay, Fareeha, Mama likes the taste, too."

* * *

So this will be a series of vignettes I'll be writing following these three. Expect an update or so every other day, though I'll be putting up two on the publishing of this fic because I made the two entries on two different days. If you enjoyed the read, feel free to drop a review.

Cheers!

-Toph the Trickster


	2. Lovely

**Lovely**

Looking at all the young faces in the ship certainly made her feel her age. Mercy certainly didn't look that much older than she last remembered her. Seeing Fareeha was also certainly a welcome sight, but the change she saw in her daughter was staggering.

What was once headstrong and stubborn had turned into steel born of facing hardship and loss.

It was a look Ana had never wanted to see on her daughter, and it mildly saddened her.

"Ana…"

His voice was soft but unmistakable. Looking away from her daughter, Ana found herself looking at another old soul.

"Reinhardt," She greeted the man with a smile as he approached. "I must say you're looking well. This life must agree with you."

The man laughed, haughty and loud. It caught the attention of everyone in the room, and Ana could feel her Fareeha looking at them.

"Well, you always did mention that I was born old." He said with a grin, taking a step closer to her so that he was barely inches from her. He truly was larger than life, both literally and figuratively; he stood here untouched by time and there was very little difference in what he looked like now and how he looked thirty years ago.

"And you are looking as lovely as ever."

* * *

I found their interactions on the reddit page, and came up with this.

Cheers!

-Toph the Trickster


	3. Never Over

**Never Over**

When Ana found him, he was in his room packing.

"Reinhardt? I didn't find you at dinner."

"I've been… _retired._ "

Ana started. "What?"

All Reinhardt did was nod and fall back on his bed. Taking a deep breath, he stared at the ceiling. She approached him, eyeing the rest of his room as she walked past the door-frame. Most of this things were already packed, and there were several suitcases set down on the floor. His desk was still untouched, though, and she could see the pictures that were on it.

"I used to think I'd die fighting, Ana. I never thought it would end like _this._ "

She reached out to one of the pictures on his desk, sitting besides him, she put it in front of him.

"The fight is _never_ over, Reinhardt. Just because they're forcing you out of it doesn't mean it's over for you, either." She leaned against him, enjoying the warmth he exuded. She observed him as he looked at the picture in his hands.

"There's always someone to protect."

"Ana…"

She stood, and tried to fix herself. "Have you scheduled your departure yet, Reinhardt?"

"I have, yes, I'm leaving for Bavaria in the morning."

"You're cancelling that."

He looked at her. "What?"

"I'm flying back to Cairo the day after tomorrow on leave and you're coming with me." She reached down and started pulling on his arm. It would be impossible to bring him up herself, but she got the point across and he eventually got up. "Now, I'm hungry and you're raiding the fridge with me. I'm sure Torbjorn still has some food left in there."

Both laughed as they left the room, leaving the photo of Ana and Fareeha on the bed.


	4. The Old Man on the Mountain

**Meeting the Old Man on the Mountain**

Fareeha's first memory of Reinhardt Wilhelm had been when she was eight, during one of her mother's rare visits back to Cairo when Fareeha was still living with her grandparents. He was tall, far taller than the posters of him made him out to be, his great build shielding her from the harsh Egyptian sun.

With his one good eye he looked upon her and smiled.

"Hello, little one!"

Ana Amari was beside him in a heartbeat, the sniper was still dressed in partial-uniform with Overwatch's standard-issue black fatigues and a form-fitting black undershirt that she wore underneath her jacket. Fareeha approached her mother and hugged the woman's leg; she did not take her eyes off of the man that stood at their doorstep.

While Reinhardt did not notice the starry-eyed look on the little girl, Ana did. Grinning at her daughter, the woman spoke:

"Come on, Fareeha, say hello." And turning to Reinhardt: "Reinhardt, this is my daughter, Fareeha. I've told you about her."

And the two talked for a bit; Fareeha can't quite remember about what. She did not stop looking at him, though. It was him, _him_ , the man in the posters with her mother.

Eventually, however, the man lowered himself so that he's as close to eye-level with her as possible.

"It's nice to meet you, little one." He extended a hand to her. "I am Reinhardt Wilhelm of Overwatch. It is good to meet you!"

Fareeha looked at the hand, unsure of how to respond. He was _right here_ in front of her and this wasn't a dream.

She must have been staring a while because she felt her mother's gloved hand on her shoulder. Looking up, Fareeha saw Ana give her a nod. Fareeha saw something odd in her mother's eyes, a shine that wasn't usually there, and a smile that shone brighter than usual.

Fareeha took Reinhardt's hand – a finger was all that she could really grasp – and gave it a small shake, the large man accommodated her.

It would be later over dinner at her mother's favorite restaurant in the city that Fareeha would find out that Reinhardt was here because he, too, was on leave from work and he decided to join Ana in visiting her daughter. She also found out that he had been to Cairo before.

What would surprise her was that Reinhardt and her mother had known each other _before_ the Omnic Crisis and Overwatch was established. And she wouldn't find the circumstances of what happened during that time or the time _after_ that until much later.


	5. Justice

**Justice**

Fareeha walked through the door nursing a sore arm and a bruised cheek.

Of course that would be when her mother would just arrive from deployment for a surprise visit.

"What happened to you?" Ana asked, bending down to examine her daughter for any further injuries.

Fareeha remained silent. Looking down, she allowed her bangs to cover her eyes. She recalled the lecture she had been given by the principal and grit her teeth as silently as she could.

The adults wouldn't understand.

"Fareeha? Talk to mama." Ana placed her hand atop her daughter's head. "I can't help you unless you tell me what happened."

"I got into a fight."

The girl certainly didn't expect her mother to laugh at that, but Ana did.

"I certainly gathered as much," The soldier said. "But you're going to have to be more specific."

And so Fareeha told her about the new student that was being bullied after classes had ended. She told her mother about how the child was so much smaller than the rest and was being literally and figuratively pushed around. She also told her mother about how she couldn't stand to see it anymore and started what amounted to a brawl on the schoolyard so the other child could get away.

It was a shame that Fareeha could not, and instead got dragged into the principal's office.

When she finished telling her story, the girl returned to her previous position of looking to the floor.

"I already said sorry to the kids I hit." She whispered to her mother. "I'm sorry I disappointed you, Mama." And parroting what she was told at school: "I know now that fighting is bad no matter what."

It was then that a warmth enveloped her and Fareeha looked up to find herself in the arms of her mother.

"Oh Fareeha." Ana almost gasped. It was strange to hear. "There is nothing at all disappointing about standing up for those that can't stand up for themselves. That's part of what Justice is." The mother placed her forehead against her daughter's. "And sometimes, it happens that we have to fight for them. The trick is to figure out what battles are worth fighting."

Ana pulled back and looked down at Fareeha. "Never stop fighting for what you believe in, my little Justice." And with a mischievous grin: "Though try not to get caught, next time."

Fareeha laughed.

"Oh, and we never talked about that last part, okay?"

"Of course, Mama!"

Standing up and brushing herself, Ana turned and walked away, shedding the heavy overcoat that she wore when on duty with Overwatch. As the woman left the room, she said something that always made Fareeha wonder.

"Times like these, you remind me of your father."


	6. Sky

**Sky**

Fareeha had been on her way out of school for term break. She was surrounded by her school friends and they had been discussing what plans they were going to have for summer.

Maria said that her parents were planning to have her travel to Europe to see the sights of London and Paris.

Michael was scheduled for a trip to China as his own parents were being transferred to work at Liujang Tower and they were looking for places to stay.

Katherine's own family were taking her to Korea to attend some gaming championship or other.

When asked about her own plans, however, Fareeha only had this to say:

"My Mother is returning from deployment today, so I guess I'll just figure out what she wants to do."

What she didn't mention was that she was interested in seeing Europe, too. She'd seen pictures of the grassy, open fields and wanted to run through them with the wind at her back. She wanted to see the vast sky and not be whipped by the desert winds in Cairo and Giza. She wanted to climb mountains.

She had spent a lot of her free time on the computer looking up such pictures, and she even showed them to her friends.

"Fareeha!" A voice called from the school entrance, one that she had not been expecting to hear.

Mama certainly liked to drop in earlier than she said she would.

"Mama!" Fareeha waved at her mother, only then noticing the man that was with him.

Beside Ana Amari stood Reinhardt Wilhelm dressed in the same black shirt and fatigue combo that was commonly-used by Overwatch agents underneath their main uniforms. They were both probably fresh off the plane.

"Reinhardt!"

He laughed. "Hello, little Fareeha!"

She pouted. "I'm not little anymore!"

He bent down so he could meet her eyes.

"Is that so?"

Behind them, Ana laughed as she greeted Fareeha's classmates. "Well, I certainly hope you had a nice last day of classes. You're in for a busy break, daughter."

"Oh?" Said Maria, curious. "What are you guys doing?"

Ana gestured to Reinhardt. "Well, it so happened that Reinhardt and I had our leaves from service at the same time, so when he found out that Fareeha was about to have her break from school, he offered to invite us to Wilhelm manor in Bavaria."

"Bavaria!" Cried Katherine. "That's in Germany!"

Reinhardt laughed haughtily. "Of course! It shall be a splendid time!" And without waiting, he turned around and began walking to the car he and Ana used to go to Fareeha's school. "Come! We must prepare!"

Following the giant of a man, Fareeha looked to her mother and asked: "Are we really going to Bavaria, mother?"

Ana looked down at her daughter and whispered: "Your grandparents showed me the pictures on your computer. Reinhardt's family owns a lovely mountain villa, and I thought you might like to come since he invited me already."

It would be in Bavaria, where the Wilhelms apparently owned a castle and not a villa, that Fareeha would get her first taste of crisp air that didn't crack her lips, of wind that whipped her hair but didn't whip _her._

But most of all, it was the sky. The sky in its vastness, and greatness, that Fareeha found her inspiration.

It was in the mountains of Bavaria, with her mother and her mother's closest friend, that Fareeha first truly realized that the sky is what she wanted.


	7. The Mountain

**The Mountain**

The first time Ana Amari met Reinhardt Wilhelm, she had been twenty-seven, he had been twenty-eight. It had been during a diplomatic visit by Germany and Reinhardt had been part of the envoy.

She had been training with her squad in the gym, practicing hand-to-hand combat while the aforementioned envoy was being given a tour of the facility.

Ana had just pinned Alim to the floor when she saw them approach. Quickly recovering, she got up and pulled her subordinate to his feet so they could stand at attention and salute the coming dignitaries.

"And here we have one of our best snipers and her squad." The guide said. The younger woman in the suite looked to Ana and sent her a smile and a small wave. "At ease, Captain Amari."

Returning the smile, Ana swept her eyes over the guests.

He was hard to miss, towering over everyone in the crowd. Everyone was introduced to each other, but one name certainly stood out from the rest that day:

"Reinhardt of House Wilhelm." He said as he walked up to her, white hair glinting in the sunlight that filtered through the windows. He bowed at the waist. "I look forward to seeing your skills on the field. Though I admit what you were doing earlier was also very fascinating."

Ana laughed. "Well, if you're so fascinated, you're certainly welcome to join us."

Hours, days, years later, Ana would laugh at the looks her squad took on when she invited a mountain of a man to spar with them. Reinhardt would also tell her how the German ambassador also started to break into a cold sweat.

In the present, though, all Ana looked at was Reinhardt's grin. "Well, don't mind if I do!"

And, without further discussion, Reinhardt Wilhelm shed his coat, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, got on the mat, and then began to procedurally beat down every one of her squad members and herself.

Of course, Ana proceeded to trounce him in the firing range. Medals or not, she was still the better shot.

Afterwards, they met for dinner at her favorite restaurant in Cairo.

He made her breakfast the following morning - German fare, of course.

And that was how the Mountain met the Sky.


	8. First Reunion

**First Reunion**

When Reinhardt was first brought into the then-forming Overwatch strike team, he wondered what to expect.

His superiors from back in Munich had told him that two of the acting commanding officers for the group had been graduates of the Super Soldier program, and that he had been asked for personally. When he had been questioned whether or not he had known anyone inside the budding group, Reinhardt had said that he didn't know who was in it.

But with the current escalation with the Omnics, Reinhardt saw little reason to refuse, especially after the debacle that had happened in Stuttgart earlier that year. He couldn't afford to simply lie and wait anymore.

"So you're officer Wilhelm?" Said a younger man of smaller stature in black leather and fatigues. Reinhardt looked down to meet his eyes. "I'm Gabriel Reyes." Reyes raised a hand that Reinhardt took in a handshake. He was so small.

"Welcome to Overwatch. I've heard good things about you, and your records don't lie." Reyes laughed.

Reinhardt grinned. "Reinhardt of House Wilhelm, it is an honor to be here commander Reyes."

This caused Reyes to raise an eyebrow.

"You've heard of us."

Reinhardt scoffed, shrugged, and began to walk through the long hallway before them. This base - this watchpoint - was rather large for a strike team of three - now four - people.

"To be honest I didn't know you existed until I was told that I was being brought in. I wasn't told much." Reinhardt slowed down and looked to the small commander following him. "You've heard of me?"

It was Reyes's turn to scoff, though he grinned at the man. "You were recommended to us personally by our third member. When we saw your file, Jack and I certainly couldn't believe how many awards you've gotten in service."

"That happens when you've served as long as I have, commander." Reinhardt responded, walking on. "Perhaps I shall tell you how I got them, someday."

Reyes led him down a turn and the two entered a rather spacious mess hall.

"Who recommended you to me, though?" He asked the commander as the doors hissed shut behind them. "No one from high command back home ever mentioned Overwatch until the letter came in."

"That's because the recommendation didn't come from Germany." He could hear the smile as she spoke.

Oh that was a voice he hadn't heard in quite some time, and Reinhardt found himself taking a deep breath before he turned to her.

"Ana Amari, I didn't think you'd have remembered me!" He turned to the source of the voice seeing Ana walk towards him. The tails of her blue overcoat brushed the steps as she descended them. "How long has it been? Three years?"

"Well, the mountain is a hard thing forget." They were standing face to face now, the Egyptian woman rising only to the middle of his chest. Her eyes were still sharp, and there was a glint there that he didn't really remember from the last time they'd met. "For even when one leaves it, the sights, sounds, and memories can stay with us forever."

He didn't speak for a while, just staring at her amber eyes as she looked up at him. Reinhardt wasn't sure if Reyes was still there, but he wasn't really paying attention anymore.

"But the sky is hard to forget, too, Ana." He said in almost a whisper. "It's good to see you again."


	9. Ghosts in Giza

**Ghosts in Giza**

Fareeha decided against taking a cab home and just decided to walk back to her house that day. She hadn't been in Giza in a while, not since she was reassigned to the capitol after that near-disaster that was the incident at the Temple of Anubis.

As such, she wanted to feel the area again.

After all, this was home now, even though the part of her that was still a child always thought of home as the house she lived in with her grandparents in the outskirts of Cairo. It was where she stayed while she was there, and though her grandparents were no longer around, the memories she had of the place were always fond.

Looking round, she saw people mulling about, and she found herself relaxing for the first time since taking leave yesterday.

Knowing her luck as of late, that wouldn't last very long.

A line of posters stood out to her, along with a vendor selling newspapers nearby. They were wanted posters, with their corresponding rewards. It looked like they were posted by Hakim, considering the amount of money posted and the address that the bounties could be claimed at. Two of the people on the posters seemed familiar to her, though she couldn't quite put her finger on why that was

On the newspapers, there was news of an attack on a private complex that happened two days prior.

It was a known residence of the crime lord- at least to those that have had dealings or have dealt with him in the past.

Not that Helix could do anything about him. They were a security corporation, not the police. And the police, themselves, were stuck, too; they couldn't pin anything solid on him in the last few years.

There seemed to have been stills of the attack as part of the article.

Did Hakim release these? If he did, he probably wanted more people looking out for troublemakers.

Well, if there were more people causing trouble for Hakim, all the better.

Picking up a copy, she saw two people that appeared to be walking away from scene and numerous people on the ground. Whether they were unconscious or dead Fareeha couldn't tell.

The one with the hood made her look back to the wanted posters. She was pretty sure they were the same person, and that feeling of familiarity was there again.

Purchasing the paper and resolving to read through the article more thoroughly, she went home.

Upon opening the door to her room, she immediately felt something amiss. Fareeha paused and quietly put her hand on her sidearm before slowly making her way around the house and checking for anything out of place.

All she found was an envelop on her desk.

Picking it up and looking at it more closely, her eye widened as she read the name of the sender:

"Ana."


	10. Heir

**Heir**

The gallery at Castle Wilhelm told stories. Some paintings depicted notable events in the history of the family, and others depicted events that affected the history at large. Beginning at the entrance hall and ending at the hallway that lead directly to Reinhardt's apartments, it was so prolific that it wasn't uncommon for Castle Wilhelm to receive guests that had come to see the gallery and to study the building's history.

With her semi-frequent trips to Germany in general and Bavaria and Stuttgart in particular, Fareeha Amari had gotten to see most of the gallery since the first time her mother had first brought her to visit Reinhardt's childhood home.

It was a magnificent castle, one nestled atop a mountain that overlooked a nearby village. And, with more than three hundred years of history, it was a landmark in and of itself.

This particular visit of hers was special, though, mainly because this was the first time Fareeha was going to be staying with him on her own.

The whole arrangement had come as a surprise to Reinhardt. At first he had been scheduled to arrive back in Bavaria from Stuttgart to take care of some business in the area - with Ana and Fareeha to follow at a later date, he had, however, suddenly received a call from Ana who asked him if he was alright with Fareeha coming earlier than planned as the mission she was currently handling on was taking longer than intended to complete and Fareeha was already on break from school.

Of course, Reinhardt was only too happy to accept and immediately contacted Fareeha to make arrangements for her travel to Germany. She was picked up by the resident staff as he had been in the middle of the meeting when she arrived, but she was set up in his apartment of rooms now.

Now, if only he could find the girl.

Reinhardt had already circled the grounds and checked her usual haunts: the pool, the kitchen, the gym, and the garden, and found her in none of them. He had decided to give the girl a new and enjoyable distraction while waiting for her mother to return: Horseback Riding, which he was sure she would find interesting, but he would have to tell her about it first or else the horses would be stuck in the old stables doing nothing.

Just like her mother, she enjoyed the wind at her back, though more so than even Ana did.

Up the stairs to the master bedroom Reinhardt climbed, deciding that maybe he would find her resting. As he did, he passed the portraits that showed each head of the House Wilhelm since the House's founding centuries prior. He looked at each one of them, all giants of men, and all soldiers of their time. Their large smiles or grim features greeted him as he passed, the light of the morning sun shining through the windows between each painting.

Duty and Justice was the Wilhelm legacy, and it was one that he had proudly carried on since he had been old enough to understand what the words meant. After all, it's why he entered the service so young and why he still served now.

That was where he found her, leaning on the windowsill between a painting of his father and the empty spot on the other side of it - the spot that his own painting looked at.

Now in high school, Fareeha had grown to look quite a bit like her mother, though with differences that told Reinhardt that the girl was certainly growing into her own. While Ana liked to wear her hair long and free, Fareeha favored keeping her hair just shy of shoulder-length and decorated with jewelry. Fareeha's participation in a lot of her school's sports clubs had certainly shown. She was well-toned for her age, and Ana had certainly expressed her pride - and occasionally, her uncertainty.

"Fareeha!" He called to her, getting her attention from whatever it was she was staring at through the window. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Reinhardt!" She replied, seemingly surprised. "Ah, sorry about that. I was looking around the area." She leaned back against the windowsill and looked at the painting on the opposite wall. "I just haven't been to this wing of the castle before."

The man nodded. She had a point.

"Well, I always gave you and your mother your own wing so you two could have your privacy."

He didn't mention that Ana also made it a point to give the whole wing to Fareeha after the girl had become a teenager and Ana had taken to staying in the room Fareeha was staying in now.

"If you like, we could move your things to your usual room tonight." He shrugged; Reinhardt didn't mind.

Fareeha, however, shook her head. "No, no, this is fine. It's all so new to me, is all." She looked at the portrait accross her, the one of Reinhardt himself, dressed in formal garb that he wasn't known to wear elsewhere, his medals shining in the ink.

To everyone on Overwatch, he perpetually wore black shirts and fatigues, only when he was home or out on official business for the family was he found in a suit.

"I've seen that hammer in a few of the paintings." She pointed at the warhammer he held in the painting.

Reinhardt nodded, not quite smiling. "Yes, it's a family heirloom. I can show it to you later if you like."

"So, these are all of your ancestors?" Fareeha didn't really respond to the not-question. "All heads of your family?"

"Since the time of the founding of it, yes." Reinhardt looked down the hallway he had just walked. "Every Lord Wilhelm that ever was has a painting of himself here." He gave the area of wall near his own painting a fond pat.

"What about that way?" Reinhardt looked to find her looking in the other direction, where the paintings ended with him and the rest of the spaces were occupied with the banner containing the Wilhelm coat of arms.

"They're left open for those that follow."

From where he stood, Fareeha had the space of wall right across his painting right behind her, and it made him think.

She was so much like her mother, but at the same time, she reminded him so much of himself, too. She had grown to have a sense of protectiveness over others, a sense of purpose that he had found too familiar and one that stayed with him even now, after more than twenty years of service.

He always wondered who Fareeha's father was, and Reinhardt certainly had his suspicions, but he could never quite find it in himself to ask Ana directly.

It was new to him, that feeling of unease that welled up in his stomach whenever he contemplated asking Ana if Fareeha was his or not, and he couldn't overcome it.

For what would he do if she _wasn't?_

He didn't have a good answer for that.

Reinhardt looked to the portrait of his father and found a stern gaze facing him. His father had been a general in the German Army, and had been one of the toughest people he had ever encountered.

During the man's waning years, he had endlessly badgered Reinhardt for grandchildren, moreso than then-lady Wilhelm ever did.

"I will not have an empty space down this hall, boy!" The man scolded his son. "And I want someone to spoil that isn't going to run off to the army the earliest he can."

Too early, he was told. He joined the service too early, even for a Wilhelm.

But Reinhardt never married. His ideals and his convictions always made it hard to find someone that would settle for being second place to that.

And the experience with that is why he never actually _asked_ Ana if she would marry him. It would have been unfair to her.

But Fareeha…

Well, Fareeha was perhaps the closest thing to an heir House Willhelm might ever get from him.

And whether or not she was his, wasn't important.

"You know, Fareeha." He said, grinning, getting her attention from the long and empty hallway.

"I think a painting of you would fit _right in_."

That would have to be enough.


	11. The Picture

**The Picture**

Angela Ziegler didn't envy her position right now.

Angela Ziegler envied the positions of Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison even less.

After all, they were the ones that had to deal with the fact that Ana Amari had died, and Jack had been personally responsible for letting it happen.

She could only imagine how that would go down with Fareeha.

Meanwhile, she was here to gather all of Ana's personal effects and send them to the woman's newly-bereaved daughter. Reyes and Morrison had originally been the ones that intended to do it, but with the need to inform the girl, they decided that one of Ana's closer friends within High Command would be needed.

The doctor sighed as she looked into the darkened quarters of the recently-deceased Captain Amari. Everything was still in place, even her bed was still haphazardly put together. It made her remember that the 'Mama Bear' of Overwatch could sometimes be too lazy to fix her bed properly, even though she knew that Ana had always made it a point to get Fareeha to fix her own.

The sight of it brought a tearful smile to Angela's lips.

Wiping her eyes, she shifted the basket in her hand to the underside of her other arm, and walked through door into the room proper.

She looked around, eyeing the dresser on the far right where she new Ana kept most of her uniforms and a few civilian clothes for sleeping and going in and out of the base for leave. The doctor was also quite sure she'd find something to bring in the foot locker, and in a few of the drawers in the cabinet.

It was on the desk that she knew she'd have a lot to bring home.

It was full of pictures. She saw the picture with Fareeha when the girl was still young. Everyone was smiling then, and Wilhelm hadn't been forced into retirement yet. There was the picture of Ana and Fareeha training together and one of Ana in-uniform carrying a baby Fareeha.

There were so many that had been taken over the years. Mercy thought she even saw the picture of her and Torbjorn that one Halloween, and one that had Reyes, Morrison, and Ana herself.

Those three had always been together since the organization was founded. It saddened Angela to think that they were short one person now.

She began to place the pictures in the basket. If nothing else, it was important that these… these _memories_ were given to Ana's daughter.

Once everything on top of the desk was taken out, she moved to checking the drawers, opening each one at a time for things of note that she thought Fareeha might want to keep.

It was when she found it:

The frame was polished wood and decorated with gold lacquer. And the picture was one of a young Fareeha Amari riding on the shoulder of a formally-dressed Reinhardt Wilhelm. Both were laughing and in what appeared to be a garden of some sort with a castle behind them.

This gave Angela pause.

Angela recognized that castle. It was hard to forget considering she had been there with her team almost a decade ago. Their group had just finished a mission in Germany, but their ship had needed to stop nearby to repair and refuel after a particularly dangerous deployment. Reinhardt had been kind enough to offer them a place to stay and a place to take care of their aircraft.

It had been then that they had found out that not only was Reinhardt of old German nobility, they had found out he owned his own castle in Bavaria.

They stayed the week, with Angela joining Reinhardt on a trip to his villa in Stuttgart to pick up some things since he had been scheduled for leave after that mission, but he had been planning to go somewhere else for that.

However, Fareeha looked about twelve or thirteen in this photo.

That was before the rest of Overwatch became aware of Reinhardt's status, so that meant that Ana and Fareeha had been visiting Reinhardt in Germany for _years_ now.

But why?

While it's true that both Ana and Reinhardt had been founding members of Overwatch, they weren't usually found off-duty together. She had usually been found in the company of Reyes or Morrison. If this photo was any indication, however, Ana and Reinhardt had spent quite a bit of time together when they were _on leave._

Now she remembered that those two always seemed to take their leaves at the same time or close enough together that they were pretty much overlapping.

Thinking back to the time she had stayed in Castle Wilhelm, Angela realized that the place Reinhardt had been meaning to go to once his leave started had been _Cairo._

Angela Ziegler started at the photo, minutes passing by as she suddenly remembered so many times she had worked with Ana. All the times the older woman had quietly snuck off after dinner or came in late to breakfast, all the times Reinhardt had done the same.

Pieces clicked together in her head as Angela's eyes widened. She stared at the picture, looking from the smiling face of Fareeha to the laughing face of Reinhardt.

She choked back a sob, almost dropping the basket in her hands. "Oh _god_ …"

Someone had to tell Reinhardt.


	12. Father

**Father**

Fareeha was seventeen when she realized who her father is.

Before then, Ana had only ever given her hints or anecdotes of things her father had said or done. Always, the older woman kept it vague, but at the same time, there had always been a line that stood out to her:

"Justice can always speak for itself."

On one of her breaks from school, Fareeha found herself on a plane to Germany as her mother was planning to take her on a trip to France. Since she had gotten off school before her mother could be given leave, Fareeha was to stay with Reinhardt while waiting for Ana to arrive from her latest deployment at Watchpoint: Gibraltar where she had been serving as a temporary base commander.

When Fareeha had arrived at the Stuttgart Villa, she had been surprised to not find Reinhardt there. The staff at the residence told her that he had gone off to a nearby village to meet with a friend, and that she was welcome to either join him for dinner there, or to have dinner at the house.

Of course, Fareeha had decided to join the veteran and had been brought to the village entrance by one of the chauffeurs.

The tavern looked to be quite old, with wooden walls that looked like they had been painted over one too many times. The sign on top of the doors said some words in German that she couldn't quite understand for while she had started to learn the verbal tongue from all the time she spent in Germany, she hadn't quite gotten the writing yet.

From what she could get, though, it looked like the name of the place was "The Steel Heart."

Nodding to the driver and telling him that she'd be alright, she sent him on his way.

And found herself face to face with an unconscious man that was thrown through the doors and into the cobblestone street.

He was followed by two more, and finally by a large Reinhardt that walked out the door while dusting his hands. He wasn't dressed in formalwear this time. Fareeha found that he tended to fall back to shirts and fatigues when he wasn't in Bavaria or in the capitol.

Reinhardt smiled when he saw her.

"Fareeha! I'm glad you're here. Come in!"

Quickly giving the pile of men on the ground an odd look, she shook her head and followed the man inside.

The tavern was a lively place with what appeared to me many of the village's residents enjoying the food and drink for the night. She took a seat in a small table near one of the windows that allowed them a good view of the rest of the establishment. Reinhardt placed a plate of Currywurst and mash in front of her.

Quickly thanking him, she dug in. Both talked while she ate and he drank, discussing things like what she had been up to at school and how things had been with Overwatch.

"Oh, the usual." He said as the proprietor of the shop dropped off a few flagons of the local draft while telling them it was on the house. "They send us in to take care of some people being a little too unruly. Nothing new."

"You mean like tonight?" Eyeing the free drink, Fareeha looked to the man. "And here I thought you didn't accept payment for dealing with vagrants."

Reinhardt laughed, taking another sip of the drink.

"I generally don't, but free drinks are free drinks and it's in bad form to refuse food or hospitality."

"But refusing money is alright?"

"It is as long as it wasn't part of the deal anyway. Justice doesn't need to be paid for, Fareeha, but that doesn't mean it isn't heard." He looks to the door that he threw the men out of minutes earlier. "Those men aren't coming back for a while, for example. And when they do, they won't cause any trouble again."

He raises his glass in a toast and Fareeha returns the gesture with her own.

As the bitterness of the ale goes down her throat, she hears him whisper so low she barely hears it:

"After all, Justice always speaks for itself."


	13. Guten Nacht

**Guten Nacht**

The Black Forest area was perhaps one the most beautiful regions in all of Germany.

Privately, Reinhardt would argue that it was one of the most beautiful in the world. The rolling hills and valleys, the grasslands, the fields…

The history.

All of it had remained almost unchanged as the years went by and the rest of the world's technology advanced. Of course, the village's improved, but the heart of the region remained the same. The green of summer remained, as did the white of winter.

It aged with grace.

Reinhardt would remember Ana saying it aged much like himself: barely at all.

Retirement had come to afford him quite a bit of time. A lot of this time had been spent taking care of the family's investments, making sure that they were secured for years to come and that they weren't being cheated out of any profits. It had been time-consuming work, but it certainly wasn't all that difficult. The fact that he was a fairly well-known veteran and had been a bit of a personality of Overwatch before he left was a big help.

As he and Ana had discussed, he also hadn't really given up fighting for the sake of what he believed in. He didn't do it as frequently as he used to, of course, but he still did so. Europe was a stable place, but there would always be the odd troublemaker.

Reinhardt was more than happy to deal with them. And if it made the work of the lawmen of the area easier, all the better.

Looking around the small village he was in, he was reminded of what else he had come to use his time on:

The Black Forest area was quite large. And while Stuttgart had become a bit of a second home to him, he still had to travel quite a bit to visit areas like these.

Many times, he would bring Brigitte with him, and sometimes Fareeha would come along if she was free and visiting Germany while he was travelling.

However, on this particular day he didn't bring either of the girls with him.

Reinhardt approached a stall along the cobblestone street that sold flowers and purchased forty-one Cypresses. Thanking the clerk, he made his way to the bridge and didn't mind the sad look the woman sent him as he walked away. It wasn't the first time he had come here, after all.

Across the bridge and appearing to lean against the mountain on the horizon, were the ruins of an old castle.

Reinhardt had been seventeen when he entered the army. He remembers his father - a general - asking that he not enlist so early, that he enjoy his youth and freedom first, that he enjoy life.

Reinhardt had not listened.

At fifty-six and having retired from Overwatch at fifty-three, He had served as a soldier for more than thirty-six years, longer than any of his fellow founders of Overwatch had. He had served before the Omnic Crisis.

And while many would argue that the time before The Crisis had begun had been a golden age of humanity, it didn't mean that it wasn't without its faults. For while many in the world had been content, there were always those that weren't satisfied with the status quo, always those that wanted more or wanted others to have less.

Terrorists.

The word left a bitter taste in Reinhardt's mouth.

Not even after the Omnic Crisis did they disappear, though Reinhardt had never expected them to. Faces changed, places changed, ideals and reasons changed, but they were always there.

Peace was always hard-won and it was usually the soldiers that had to pay the price to win it.

He was approaching the castle now, and the setting sun had done a good job of casting the ruins in a lovely golden light. Even now, Reinhardt could imagine the place in its prime: paintings, carpets, tapestries, chandeliers, murals.

He also remembered the people: Brothers, sisters, friends, and family. Reinhardt Wilhelm had been stationed here when he was in his early twenties. Before Overwatch, and before the Omnic Crisis.

Before Ana and Fareeha.

This was tradition for him. Once a year he would visit places in the Black Forest he had lost people at. Places he had survived, but couldn't save others. The location wasn't always the same; after all, the region was a big place and Reinhardt had been station in many bases.

It was always beautiful, though.

The floors of the building were gone though the walls and most of the roof still remained. Stained-glass windows were shattered in some places and whole in others. In his mind he could still remember the mural, a replica of Rembrandt's _The Night Watch_ on the wall to the left. He was where the great hall would have been and the staircases leading to the upper floors would have flanked either side of the rose window he was walking towards.

Reinhardt was a very decorated soldier, one that had earned about every medal that could be earned by serving in the German military.

Few truly understood what it meant to have earned them.

Faces flashed before him of the men and women stationed in this castle with him. Those that had died in the initial strike and those that had eventually been mowed down as the night drew on.

What Reinhardt hated most were those that died just as the dawn came in, when their reinforcements had arrived and the attackers had been driven away.

In the end, only he and three others had survived, and he had earned himself the Iron Cross for exemplary command of the troops he had left.

The other three, he remembered their names still: Möller, Werner, Krause. They had been given half a year's leave and were deployed again to other bases in Europe while Reinhardt was given a command position at a different base in the Black Forest area.

Within the year, he had learned that they were all killed in action.

As the years went by, and the Omnic Crisis started, he survived more battles, lost more men, and earned more medals. If he closed his eyes and tried he could still remember the faces of everyone that had ever served with or under him. He remembered their smiles and laughter.

On particularly trying days, he'd instead remember how they died.

Be it bullet, blade, explosion, or even crushed under the weight of their own Crusader Armor once the Crisis had begun in earnest.

It would be in Overwatch that he would get his last two medals: The Bundeswehr Cross and the German Cross in Gold with Diamonds. He had been one of the only ones to ever receive the latter award.

But even then he soldiered on. He served in Overwatch and he did everything in his power to protect those that served with him, for he could not bear to lose anyone again.

And this time, he succeeded.

Fewer deaths, fewer hurt. His shield had protected both the world and his own people, and he had never been happier.

He earned no medals or awards, he was given less praise than he had before, but he believed that it was when he had done the most good.

But still he would not forget, so he came to the sites of his greatest and most hard-won 'victories.' He would honor those that had fought beside him and lost their lives.

Forty-one flowers for the forty-one that he lost here, including the three that had survived but died elsewhere for he could no longer remember where they had been killed.

He knelt right below the remaining rose window - perhaps the only one that was still whole after all these years - and placed the flowers there.

"All of you," He whispered. "Thank you. _Guten Nacht, Kameraden_."

The fighting was never over for him for there would always be people to protect.

But he would also never forget those that died beside him, protecting those that couldn't protect themselves.

He hoped that through him, their sacrifices wouldn't be in vaid.

It was then his phone rung.

With furrowed brows, he reached into his pocket and looked to find that it was Fareeha calling.

He answered.

She spoke, her voice breaking.

Reinhardt took a shaky breath.

He should have brought one more flower.

* * *

All of the awards that were used in this chapter were researched in Wikipedia. I apologize if they were used incorrectly.

\- Toph the Trickster


	14. Quiet Night

**Quiet Night**

"Reinhardt?"

The man found himself stirring at the call, he should have been alarmed, but he couldn't sense any hostility from the intruder. He squinted.

"Ana?"

"Move over would you?" He heard her laugh. "You're not exactly what one would call small."

"What about Fareeha?" Reinhardt still complied, however, moving to give her access to the space on his left.

"She's sleeping. I decided to drop by and see how you were." There was a pause as she sunk into the bed beside him. "Thank you again for letting us stay here, Reinhardt. I appreciate it."

He nodded, but didn't immediately say anything. It would be after a minute or two of shared silence that he would speak again:

"Is everything alright, Ana?"

She hummed. It was happy sound that he very much enjoyed hearing, though he didn't hear it much from her in public.

"Just lovely, Reinhardt. It's been a while since we've had a chance to do this." He could feel her crawling up to him. Unconsciously, he drew her closer.

Another pleased hum.

"Goodnight, Reinhardt."

"Goodnight, Ana."

* * *

Here's a little fluff to balance out all of the weight that's probably been going around. Hopefully that should not bog people down too much before we resume the train wreck that is the 'death' of Ana Amari. We do still have to take care of her funeral, and the eventual set of reunions that are to follow.

Once again, thank you for the reviews and the traffic. It still appears that I'm the only writer for this ship on (I'd have this up on Ao3, but I, unfortunately do not have an accoutn), but I do hope the pairing manages to pick up more steam.

Cheers!

-Toph the Trickster


	15. Fish and Chips

**Fish and Chips**

Fareeha was sixteen when she saw England for the first time.

It had been in celebration of her birthday, and her Mama had decided to take her to see more of Europe.

Needles to say, Reinhardt had been brought in, not that Fareeha had minded in the least.

They had just come from the London Eye. It was very enjoyable for her, and she certainly loved being able to see all of the city from the great ferris wheel. Old though it may have been, it was very well taken care of.

Fareeha had worked to keep her excitement from showing, to stop from bouncing around or looking too excited. It wasn't fitting her for her to act that way at her age, after all.

Even if it was certainly hard to keep the bounce from her step at the thought of going to the rest of the city tomorrow.

Ana laughed, clearly seeing her daughter's attempt at suppressing her excitement. The mother was dressed rather warmly, with a cream-colored pea coat, a black turtleneck sweater, brown slacks and fur boots. One would never have guessed she was a soldier by how she was dressed and the company she was with.

The pearls around her necklace made it even less so.

Fareeha, herself, was in a sky-blue Parka and boots while Reinhardt wore his nobleman's garb.

As they walked, Reinhardt and Ana pointed out places of interest, citing what had happened there and what to expect in the coming days of their stay. Fareeha had started to become quite accustomed to this, after having been dragged around quite a bit of Europe over the past few years on trips that they _weren't_ staying in Germany.

She remembers seeing the _Sagrada Familia_ in Barcelona during a short visit to Spain last year. Remembers seeing the Eiffel Tower in Paris and - more interesting to her - the Chateau d'if in Marseilles. It was like seeing history play before her eyes, and it was amazing.

It was what lead them here, to King's Row.

Of course, Fareeha would be the one to gasp upon seeing a sign in neon red that read 'Fish and Chips' and ask that they pick up some dinner there. Reinhardt and Ana just looked at each other and smiled before they were dragged towards it.

Fareeha would regain her composure once they entered the store to find other people there. Her mother and Reinhardt were one thing, but Fareeha still had a bit of a reputation to uphold.

"But no one knows you here, Fareeha." Ana said, laughing.

The younger Amari responded to this with a glare before going to the counter and ordering.

"Reinhardt, Mama." She called. "What do you two want?"

Again an exchange of glances and a shared smile, and the two approached the girl and made their own order.

Or were about to, until a little girl bumped into them, rushing past while bumping into all three. Of course, because of the presence of a mountain of a man and a woman that has been a soldier for about twenty years, the girl found herself on the ground.

Fareeha saw the younger girl on the ground. She was probably ten or so. The girl was dressed in a red shirt with a yellow lightning bolt and a jacket that was several sizes too big for her.

Reinhardt was the first to help her up, asking her if she was alright.

"Alright, alright, mister!" She said with cheer, her brown hair still a mess. Brushing her nose, she eyed the three of them. "Sorry 'bout that. Was a bit lost." She put her hands on her hips. "You wouldn't happen to have seen a big guy have you?" She then laughed when Fareeha pointed to Reinhardt. "No, no, not quite _that_ big." She began gesturing, as though trying to vaguely come up with the shape of something while swaying side to side.

She certainly had a lot of energy.

"He's a bit less of a lion and more of a bear!" She squeaked. "Short hair but lots of sideburns." The girl then hummed contemplatively then looks to Fareeha. "About your mom's height, not your dad's."

Fareeha had been about to correct her, telling her that Reinhardt was _not_ her Papa, but a good friend of her Mama's that was always around…

For some reason.

The girl was tapping her chin.

"Now where is _my_ dad?"

"If you like, you can come with us while we look for your Father." It was Ana. "Or you can join us for dinner and we can wait for him to come here. I take it you're lost?"

"Uh huh!" The younger girl nodded vigorously as she answered, her energy starting to cause her accent to thicken for some reason. "Was goin' around town with my pop's when we got split up. He told me that if that ever happened, to just head to this place and wait for him."

At this Reinhardt laughed.

"In that case, you can tell us what's good to eat here!" He half-guided, half man-handled the girl, gently enough not to hurt her, but it certainly didn't look comfortable to Fareeha, and she was used to the man. "Why don't you pick for Ana and I?"

Ana quickly hit Reinhardt's arm. "Easy there, old man." She said, though the smile was quite apparent in her eyes. "You might scare the girl." The three followed the girl to the counter, however, and ordered as she did. Minutes later, their order was given to them and they were seated at one of the high chairs along a window-side counter and ate.

"Hey," The girl eventually said, looking at Ana and Reinhardt. "I think I know you." She squinted, trying to remember. Quietly, Fareeha ate her meal while eyeing the large Overwatch recruitment poster - the same one she had in her room in Cairo - on the other side of the restaurant.

"You're from Overwatch!"

And cue the fangirling.

The girl pointed at Reinhardt. "You're Reinhardt Wilhelm!" And then to Ana. "And you're Ana Amari!" She clapped, some of her chips almost falling out of the newspaper that held them.

Back to Reinhardt.

"I've seen you on the Teli!"

And to Ana.

"You, too!"

And finally to Fareeha.

"Your parents are awesome!"

"Actually, Reinhardt isn't my Papa." Fareeha said with an almost sad smile.

At this the girl paused, brows furrowed. Her eyes looked from Reinhardt to Ana, then Fareeha and back again.

"B-but, but…"

"Lena?"

The girl stopped before abruptly turning around and hopping off of the high chair, her meal forgotten.

"Pops!"

She ran to him, the man bending down to pick her up.

"Oh Lena I was worried for a bit there!"

And then Lena was laughing in the arms of her father as the man spun her around in a manner that Fareeha found familiar. She looked to her own mother.

Again, she and Reinhardt had exchanged looks and smiled before the man gave Fareeha a pat on the head.

And again, Fareeha glared back at the treatment.

Eventually, Lena's father placed the girl on one of his shoulders and approached the group of three. Fareeha amusedly thought that it was a good thing the establishment had such a high ceiling despite being such a small place.

"I heard you found my daughter." He said, Fareeha noticing the brown, leather jacket he wore, the same one that Lena had been wearing. Now that she got a closer look, she found that it had a name tag: Oxton. "Thank you."

And then the pair joined them for dinner while the Oxtons awaited the arrival of Thomas Oxton's wife who was doing some searching of her own. Lena and Fareeha talked separately and Fareeha's parentage was not brought up again.

She learned that Lena's father was a pilot, and that Lena wanted to be one, too, when she grew up. Fareeha talked about wanting to be like her mother while making sure to be quiet so that Ana wouldn't overhear her.

And when the group eventually split up as Reinhardt, Ana, and Fareeha had to be back at the hotel to unpack, they exchanged contact information and promised to talk to each other again.

And they did, for a year or two, until Fareeha fought with her mother over military school, until Reinhardt's relationship with Overwatch became more and more strained and he was forced into retirement while Fareeha was serving in Egypt and Ana could do nothing but watch.

The next time Lena and Fareeha met again, they would be very, _very_ different people.


	16. Lionhearted

**Lionhearted**

It had been just another mission.

It always started as _just another mission._

Of course, no plan ever survived contact with the enemy.

Gunfire could be heard in the background, shouting over the comms to get to cover and the occasional growls, roars, and screams. He heard three very loud shots echo through followed by a cold announcement from Captain Amari.

"Three hostiles down. Your path is clear."

He looked to the feed of the field and saw Reinhardt lead the way with his shield up while the group crept behind it.

Another gunshot, this time from the building they had come from.

A shout from one of the civilians.

"Ana!" Reinhardt cried, adjusting his shield just slightly to better cover the hostages. Jack saw Ziegler try to stop herself from running into the open from the ship to check on the hurt man. More shots peppered the Crusader's shield.

"On it." She said.

One second, then two.

From Ana's vantage point on top of the Orca, another gunshot sounded through.

And then another.

And another.

And another.

Finally, the firing from the building stopped.

Before anyone could get used to the quiet, however, more gunfire was heard in the distance. Despite this, Reinhardt continued to escort the hostages back to the Orca, and eventually inside. Ziegler was quick to check on everyone's injuries before checking on the one hostage that had been shot.

Jack Morrison looked at the video feed coming from the cockpit.

"Good job on making it back and extracting the hostages." He said from HQ. He didn't quite like not being able to be deployed personally, but as head of Overwatch, he was needed more here.

Someone had to keep an eye on everything, after all, no matter how much he wished it was otherwise.

Looking through the screen, familiar faces started back at him. Oxton, Wilhelm, Amari, Ziegler, and several others.

"Get yourselves back here."

It had been terrorists - because it almost always was these days. Overwatch had been sent to recover the hostages and eliminate the threat to make sure that they wouldn't cause any more trouble.

Of course, things hadn't gone according to plan and they ended up having to choose between saving the hostages or removing the terrorists.

It was an easy choice for Jack to make.

However, Oxton's furrowed brows were easy to read.

"Commander, about that…" She rolled her shoulder though her hands were still on the controls. "Kimiko's team is still in there."

He knew that. He heard it over the comms, and he saw the fact that she and her team were _not_ on the ship.

Unfortunately, there wasn't enough time and one of the hostages was bleeding out. Most of the equipment they would have needed was back at the forward headquarters and they couldn't afford to wait anymore. It never was easy to be the one to make the call to leave someone behind, but this was part of what it meant to serve. He'd notify the Maeda family personally.

"I know, but you let me worry about that, Oxton. Get your people back to HQ." He saw her flinch. "Now."

"With all due respect, commander." It was Reinhardt. The giant stepped up to the cockpit feed and looked Jack dead in the eye. "I'm not leaving a team behind."

"Wilhelm, you are outnumbered and outgunned. You're lucky you managed to get those hostages out without stirring more trouble." He would not allow one the oldest members of Overwatch to risk his life on a _possibility_ of saving a team that was most likely not going to make it anyway.

"You know _how_ we managed that." Wilhelm replied, voice cold. "If it wasn't for them we wouldn't have been able to pull this off." His eyes narrowed, the scarred one on the left side of his face almost shining with fire as he shouted. "I am _not_ abandoning them!"

And of course Reinhardt wouldn't be willing to let another team die in his stead. Jack repressed a sigh. He knew the man had baggage, was dealing with survivor's guilt but they didn't have _time_ for this.

"Always so overconfident, Wilhelm. What would you do? What _could_ you do?" He asked, realizing that his own voice came out more barbed than he'd intended it to. "You can't take all of them alone. You'd be able to handle half at most if you managed to get to Maeda's team and coordinate the assault." Jack was breathing hard now. "You don't have the cover fire, you don't have enough support on your end, and I am _not_ authorizing your team to do this and I'll have anyone that goes with you _court-martialed_!"

"Then you'll have to just send me home after this then, Jack."

Eyes wide, Jack looked to Ana who now walked into the view of the cockpit feed. She was calm, but there was a conviction in her eyes Jack recognized easily.

Ana spoke: "Reinhardt and I are the most senior members of this team right now. He and I are responsible for the lives of everyone here. I will accompany him." She turned to Oxton. "Oxton, follow orders and make sure the hostages all get back, Reinhardt and I will make sure Maeda's team make it home."

Dammit.

Jack looked from Ana to Reinhardt and back, both did not flinch under his gaze, but Jack was pretty sure that he looked more haggard than threatening right now.

A hand was placed on his shoulder, one he was familiar with.

He sighed. "Fine, fine. Go." He couldn't look them in the eye anymore. Those two had been in the service longer than he had, longer than anyone else in the organization had been. He was their commander, but he was still their junior as far as they were concerned.

And if there was something both of them took very personally it was the survival of their team.

Ana considered everyone under her protection her children, and he had seen how scary she could get when someone threatened her Fareeha.

Reinhardt was a hardened man, someone that had faced death more times than any man could count and kept coming back. Unfortunately, that couldn't always be said for his team.

It looked like they weren't interested in seeing anyone die for them when they could do anything to stop it.

"Lena," Oh he was sure the exhaustion was heard in that. Oxton looked to him. "Drop off the hostages then hover above the extraction point, keep out of range and wait for Wilhelm or Amari to call for you."

Leaning back against his chair, he sighed.

"Go."

From beside him, Gabriel Reyes gave Jack a nod. "You wouldn't have been able to stop them."

And Ana and Reinhardt went, lions among men, and _succeeded_.

Kimiko Maeda's team had made it back with only three casualties and the entire terrorist cell that had been responsible for the attack had been killed to a man.

The returning team had been hailed as heroes, and Ana Amari had been given a medal for outstanding service and loyalty in the face of an enemy. It had also started a precedent that allowed Ana to issue orders that conflicted Jack's own and be allowed leeway.

She became less second-in-command and more his partner after that mission.

Reinhardt Wilhelm, meanwhile, was punished for insubordination and barred from missions for the following month while kept in custody on-base.

Not that it seemed to have dampened his popularity with the rest of the organization.

After all, it was hard to hate a man for wanting to save lives, especially those of the team that went with him.

At first Jack didn't mind, and decided it was alright to let his old friend walk away with a slap on the wrist. He had meant well, and people had been better for it.

It would be decades later, however, after one fateful mission where, once again, one of the two lions asked if she could be left behind to make sure one sniper would never threaten her children in Overwatch again.

This time, the Orca waited and waited and waited.

Only when the terrorist base went up in flames did they realize that Ana Amari wouldn't be coming back.


	17. Soldier On

**Soldier On**

The memorial service of Ana Amari was a quiet affair, if a bit pressured by the media from the outside.

After all, it wasn't all the time that the second-in-command of the biggest peacekeeping organization died. Amari had served Overwatch in her capacity for more than twenty years.

Fareeha had spent the last few hours entertaining guests and accepting condolences. Sharing a drink and a story with the members of Overwatch that had attended: The founders, Ana's team during the fateful mission.

Ana's old team from back during her service in the Egyptian military had come as well, grandchildren and all.

"You look just like her." Some of them had said, having only met Fareeha for the first time since the girl had grown up. "I'm sure she'd have been very proud."

From where he stood beside her, Reinhardt knew that Fareeha suppressed a flinch.

More people had come and gone, some of them there more for Fareeha then they were for Ana. A few friends from Highschool, a few more from the Academy, too.

Reinhardt's eyes swept through the crowd and came to rest upon the closest thing to contemporaries he had these days. The four remaining of the Founders weren't exactly on the best of terms, but it was heartening to see them all there and he was sure Fareeha appreciated it.

Torbjorn held a glass of wine in his right hand, and had taken the liberty of passing one to both Gabriel and Jack.

As he approached them, he noticed Lena Oxton and Angela Ziegler there, too, seated beside Shimada and Winston.

His eyes briefly met with Lena's and when her eyes briefly darted to Fareeha, Reinhardt nodded.

Reinhardt allowed himself a small smile when he had seen the pilot grab her gorilla friend and drag him to speak with the last Amari.

"Reinhardt!" Torbjorn was the first of the three to speak. "Come here and share a drink with us!" The German accepted the glass and joined the other three in a toast. Here, any quarrels they had were forgotten. For it would be disrespect to their lost peer to do so.

"To Ana!"

"""To Ana!""" The other three had said, raising their glasses before drinking all of the contents.

The three then began to talk, speaking of how they have been and what they have been up to. The three that were still in Overwatch hadn't really discussed work, and Reinhardt didn't begrudge them that because they couldn't without causing trouble. He was an outsider now, after all.

So instead he shared some of his adventures, of how he'd been going around Germany in his free time to help keep the peace in his own way. He shared some of the things he'd been doing at work - or what he supposed passed for a job when it involved little to no _doing_ of anything.

He shared what Fareeha had been up to, and how she'd been doing in the service.

The thought made him look back to see how she was doing. Finding Ana's daughter laughing while speaking with Winston and Oxton caused another smile to come to him.

This was the first time Lena and Fareeha had seen each other again in years, hadn't it?

If nothing else, he hoped that they could be friends again.

And so the memorial went. Fareeha had entertained guests and accepted condolences, while Reinhardt helped handle what Fareeha couldn't.

When the time to give Eulogies came, Reinhardt had been there to hold Fareeha when the weight became too much to bear and she broke down in tears.

He was thankful that she had also been there when he had stepped down from the podium after giving his. He had remained stone-faced, but he could feel himself cracking inside, if just a bit.

Because as he spoke, a thought had come to him, one that he had entertained for just one moment.

One dark, selfish moment.

It would be hours later, after everyone had left and he and Fareeha had been the only ones remaining that she had approached him again and gave him a long hug. He could feel her sobbing still, though much more silently now.

When she looked up from his chest, however, she was smiling. Still crying, but smiling, still.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke:

"Thank you for being here, Papa."

And then he remembered what he had thought of doing just earlier, and Reinhardt found himself crying right alongside his daughter. He held her close, and both of them held on to each other while he looked to the headstone that had been placed over an empty casket.

He hoped that Ana would forgive him for taking his time getting back to her.

It didn't look like the world was quite done with him yet.


	18. On the Train to Paris - Convictions

**On the Train to Paris - Convictions**

The European countryside zipped past as Fareeha looked out the window of the train's dining car.

Looking down, she eyed the tea set on the table before her, and sighed.

It was funny that she had actually thought her Mama would be okay with her going to the Academy; some small part of her that was still the little Fareeha had hoped her mother would be supportive even though Ana made her views quite clear. She knew that her father certainly supported the idea, though Fareeha supposed he would have supported her regardless of what she wanted to do.

Ana was a different story. Her mother had seen war and had not liked it, and felt that it would be better if Fareeha didn't get herself into the business either.

Ah. War.

War was a great many things. It was ugly, yes. People died, yes.

Her mother had certainly made no secret of what she thought of all of it, even though the woman was still an active member of Overwatch. It's why Fareeha saw so little of the bases though she had found herself encountering the members of the organization quite often at ports and airports when Fareeha picked her mother up.

Ana saw war as killing. It was necessary, and she continued to do it because she found herself in the position to do _some_ good. The entire point of fighting the way she did was to promise a future that didn't involve combat for those to come.

Apparently, that was Fareeha.

Her father had been a different matter. Despite some of the stories she had heard about his time before Overwatch, he had never been truly disheartened by his experience. Reinhardt always believed that fighting himself would protect people from ever having to do so. He believed that it took a very special kind of heart to handle what War brought.

Both fought to protect, both thought it was necessary.

One saw it as a tragedy.

The other saw it as sacrifice.

It made her constantly wonder why her mother still fought. The Omnic Crisis was over, and a lot of the trouble being caused these days were minor in comparison to that.

Fareeha liked how her father saw it, though, and it reinforced her desire to be a hero all the more over the years.

She decided that she was going to tell her mother about her decision to sign up for the Academy during the trip to France that Reinhardt had planned to celebrate her eighteenth birthday.

Ana had not taken it well, and she and Reinhardt had retreated to their cabin so they could talk.

" _Don't worry about your mother, Fareeha."_ He had said. " _I'll see what I can do about her. Why don't you go relax in the dining car for now. The countryside is lovely this time of year."_

That had been a few hours ago, and they had just been cleared by the Belgian border patrol and had crossed into France proper. They were three or so more hours away from Paris.

Fareeha had to give it to her father, though. The view _was_ good, and the additional floor the dining car had presented a view that wasn't available on the rest of the train.

She hoped that Reinhardt would be able to talk her mother into being okay with her going to the Academy.

"Because I don't really plan on letting her stop me." She mumbled.

Maybe she was being headstrong, maybe she was being unreasonable.

Or maybe she was just her father's daughter: unyielding and unbreaking.

Fareeha looked out the window once more. She remembers of being out in the Black Forest with her father - though she hadn't known Reinhardt was her father then.

She remembers sneaking away one morning before he awoke and seeing a castle - one of many - riddled with the broken remains of Omnic Bastion units. She remembers her father following her there and the look that flashed over his face.

"We fight so that others do not have to."

Then she heard the gunshots from downstairs.


	19. On the Train to Paris - Conversation

**On the Train to Paris - Conversation**

The room was dark, the curtains of the window drawn.

Ana did not quite want there to be any light while she was having this conversation.

Not that it started immediately. When she and Reinhardt returned to their cabin, the first thing he did was get a glass and pour out some whiskey.

She recognized the bottle: Scotch, single malt, eighteen years.

And he was taking it straight with a single drop of water.

"Ana." He sighed after he took a sip and collapsed on the couch opposite her on the bed.

"I thought the whole point of fighting was so that she didn't have to." She knew he was about to speak, but she wouldn't let him.

Wasn't this just so beautifully ironic?

She had spent the better part of twenty years fighting endlessly. When she first joined the service, she had done so to protect.

She still did, but she had believed that she was fighting to create a future where others wouldn't have to fight, where war would be entirely unnecessary.

This had been further amplified when she had Fareeha.

One thing - the one thing she had wanted was to see her beautiful daughter grow up in a world of peace that had been created by _both_ her parents.

Ana had dreamed of seeing her daughter as a civilian, of seeing her grow up living a quiet life. It's part of the reason why she was so supportive of Reinhardt wanting to take the girl out to travel. Fareeha was supposed to be exposed to all of the world's possibilities.

To see the works of great artists, the marvels of engineering, the wonders of architecture and building.

In doing this Ana had hoped to see her daughter grow into a person that wanted to built, to _create_.

And then Fareeha had told her she was planning to sign up for the Academy once they returned to Egypt.

Ana shook her head. It wasn't like she didn't see this coming. Her daughter was certainly a fighter, and one that did not shy away from physical activity. Her little girl was also a very confrontational little thing, never willing to back out from a fight if she thought it was a cause worth fighting for.

It was why she continued to get into trouble with bullies all the way through high school even though she was an honor student besides.

"It still is, Ana." Reinhardt finally said. Looking back to him, she found that he was already pouring himself another glass. "We fight so that others do not have to."

"Then what's the point of my fighting if Fareeha is running off to war, anyway?"

Reinhardt did not answer immediately. His eyes dropped to the carpeted floor between them before he took another sip of his whiskey.

Eventually, he spoke.

"She has your heart, Ana." His eyes met hers again. "She seems to believe the same things you do. Would you begrudge her that?"

"Fareeha doesn't know what she's looking for." This time Ana looked away, her eyes turning to the curtains that hung over the window. "She doesn't know what it's like."

Fareeha wouldn't know what it was like to take a life. She wouldn't know what it was like to realize that the people you killed were people, too, and people that had loved ones back home waiting for them.

Fareeha wouldn't know what it was like to lose people, to have to make the choice between saving the people or saving the mission they were sent to complete. Or - gods forbid - have to face what Reinhardt faced: Always being the one man to walk away.

"Did we?" Reinhardt answered. "Did you know what you were getting into when you entered service, Ana?"

"That's the thing, Reinhardt." Their eyes met. "We didn't. She doesn't. But she doesn't _have to_."

The era now was full of such promise. There was so much good being done by Overwatch, and they weren't exactly undermanned.

The world didn't _need_ soldiers right now. What would possess her daughter to become one?

"Neither did we." He replied before taking another sip. A sigh. "Neither did we."

She scoffed.

"Said the man that ran off to sign on at seventeen." She imagined her brown eyes flashing in the darkness, reflecting what little sunlight made it past the curtains. "Said the man that is descended from a long line of soldiers."

Perhaps it was blood that called Fareeha to war.

It certainly called her father, after all.

She heard the glass be placed on the table between them. Ana saw Reinhardt squeeze his eyes shut.

He didn't have a counter-argument to that, not a good one.

The Mountain rubbed his temples. "I'd say that you're from a long line of soldiers, yourself, but we'd be going in circles." When his eyes opened they were imploring. "Ana, please consider. She's your daughter. And since your parents died two years ago, she's all you have left in the world.

"Please, _please_ don't throw that away just because you don't agree with her choices."

Neither spoke after that. Reinhardt held her eyes, and she his.

Minutes later, she reached for the half-empty glass of whiskey between them. Swirling the contents, she eyed the amber liquid.

She had many friends: Gabriel, Jack, Angela, they were all people close to her heart, and as far as she was concerned she wasn't truly alone.

She knew what Reinhardt meant, though.

Family. To a man like him who had lost all of his, protecting the relationship she had with Fareeha was indeed an important thing.

He was wrong though.

Ana drunk the liquid, feeling the sudden burn that came with it while the aroma filled her nostrils. There was a reason she normally took her drink with ice when she and Reinhardt shared a bottle.

She gasped as she put the glass down, the heat spreading through her as she caught her breath.

Yeah, that was the good stuff alright.

"You're wrong, Reinhardt." She looked at him with a smile and with tears in her eyes. Tears caused partially by the alcohol, and partially by how she felt.

Because while Reinhardt didn't quite know it, he _did_ have a family. They were all on this train.

And he was right. She would rather have Fareeha with her than without, and if that meant living with her daughter becoming a soldier…

Well, she'd lived with worse.

"I have you, too."


	20. Hammerfall

**Hammerfall**

Shimada Genji had not been there when Overwatch finally fell.

Looking back, the cracks had been there even when he had still been part of the organization. It was almost laughable how he had missed it.

He, who had been so embroiled in a quest for vengeance against the family that had wronged him, he could understand why he might have missed it in favor of more… _personal_ reasons.

Strange, that so many people that had come together with the common goal of doing good for the world could fail at it so spectacularly. Perhaps it had been because they all had different views on how to do it.

Despite all of this, Overwatch had thrived. It had succeeded where many that came before it failed, or succeeded on a scale that others had never managed to before.

All with a band of people that were probably less than qualified to handle an organization of such scale at the helm.

So much power, so much freedom, so much influence granted to a small group of people charged with the leadership of one of the most well-armed paramilitary factions in history.

With those same people having such vivid personalities as they did with individual goals that they had kept to such an apparent forefront, it would have been so very easy to just slip.

And slip it did.

Overwatch was a castle, a high castle that could behold the world and see all it had to offer.

As a member of such an organization - however brief it might have been - Genji had seen what that meant. With the insider information he had as one of the sons of the Shimada clan's previous head, he had been able to dismantle Japan's most powerful crime family.

It should have been impossible to do. Many had tried it before and the Shimada had stood the test of time for almost a century with even the very government of Japan and the Omnic Crisis being unable to bring it low.

With the freedom of action that Overwatch had - to act outside of what was generally considered the law - he was able to provide them with less than savory means of taking down his old family. Not that his brother had made it easy, of course.

Hanzo had managed to make every attempt at a direct attack a difficult and costly affair.

But still, Genji's quest for vengeance - his quest for justice, or so he told himself then - had succeeded and the Shimada were but a shadow of their former selves.

Such power had been intoxicating, and Genji felt that had he not succeeded then, had he been forced to continue pursuing vengeance any longer he might have been poisoned by it, corrupted by it.

As it had some of those he had worked with.

And so he left. He left to find himself, and understand what type of place someone like him could have in a world while staying away from the power that had come so close to turning him into something he would rather have not been.

But the world kept spinning even as he found his master. The world kept spinning even as Genji went to Nepal and began his studies.

In that time, Overwatch grew higher and higher, it's sight and influence increasing as time went by and more and more people put their faith in it.

And those in the castle's upper reaches slowly become icons of their time. While not everyone knew their names, everyone knew what they represented.

They used that influence to further their own goals, goals that matched that of Overwatch in a sense but not in the way that everyone in the world might have agreed.

The cracks hidden in the castle's foundations began to spread.

At fifty-three, Reinhardt Wilhelm, a man that many had considered the heart and soul of Overwatch, retired.

That had been the first true blow to the high castle.

Reinhardt had been one of the greatest factors in keeping the people of Overwatch in line. He was a voice that spoke of what the _people_ needed and what justice meant. He saw Overwatch for what it truly was and understood that control had to be exercised in running such a thing, even though control was not exactly what he exercised in battle.

Fitting that a man with the hammer had been the first to bring it down.

A few years later, Ana Amari died.

The woman was a true wonder, Genji remembered. While Angela had been the one to bring him back from the brink, Ana had been one of the people that helped give him hope at the time. Seeing her with her daughter the few times he had the privilege to be on a mission that took them to Egypt reminded him that there was good in the world.

She was stern, too; more than willing to scold and discipline those that wouldn't do what was right. Not even being among the founders would have protected you from her if she found something wrong in you.

In a way, she and Reinhardt had both kept Overwatch from crumbling. Both had been moral compasses and guides to those around them.

Genji had arrived late to the funeral, returning just in time to see Fareeha and Reinhardt depart. He approached the gravestone and gave the woman his thanks.

It was then he knew that the second blow was struck to the high castle.

Everything went downhill from there.

Rampant corruption was discovered in Overwatch, of how some of its leaders were taking actions that seemed to advance more personal interests than the interests of the people of the world.

The organization began to seem less and less like one meant to keep the peace than a private army divided against itself with a military engine the likes of which no one in the world had seen before.

Switzerland was just the coup de grâce.

So the hammer fell…

And the high castle crumbled.


	21. Good Food

A belated Happy Holidays, everyone!

* * *

 **Good Food**

"You know, Papa, when you said that we'd be going fishing before Christmas, I didn't really think this is what you had in mind."

The little shed they were in was certainly quite cozy - if a bit small. And the view they had of the outside was certainly one that she had only now gotten the opportunity to see. It was part of why her father had gone through the trouble of securing a fishing shed that had reinforced clear glass on two sides.

Spending a lot of her time in Africa and central Europe did not give her many opportunities to see the Northern Lights, after all.

And while the structure was large enough to allow Fareeha to stand to her full height - something quite considerable as she was considered among the taller people among her peers - it wasn't large enough to account for her father. In fact, Reinhardt was taking up a quarter of the shed's total available space by just being seated on his small stool.

"I thought you might want to do something new and interesting this year."

She sent the man a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk.

"Well, I suppose going all the way to _Finland_ to _Ice Fish_ is certainly something I haven't done before." She wrapped her parka closer to herself. "Though I'm not sure how interesting I should find it. We've been waiting for a bite for a while now."

Reinhardt's grin turned smug. "Well, I'm sure the view doesn't hurt at all. This is the first time you've ever been this far north, my dear."

"Yes, but while I don't mind experiencing the culture of places we go to, I'm still a bit disappointed we ended up going _fishing_ of all things."

"You've had an eventful year, Fareeha. I thought a quiet holiday would do you good."

In the years since her mother's death and her growing closeness with her father, Fareeha had found that the man could be a lot more perceptive than he let on. It was times like these that she was reminded that Reinhardt was still an experienced soldier and commander in his own right.

A point that was usually only reinforced during practice on the mat at Wilhelm Manor.

He was right though; she _had_ had a taxing year. The incident at the Temple of Anubis and the loss of most of her team as well as the movement that was involved with getting them replaced and her determination to be the one to inform all of their relatives had left her quite exhausted.

The letter she received from her mother did not help.

Reinhardt _still_ didn't know.

How was she supposed to tell him, anyway? _Papa, you might find this surprising, but it would appear that Mama wasn't really dead. She just couldn't deal with everything anymore and decided she wanted out without telling any of us._

No, that wasn't going to work at all.

Fareeha sighed.

"It's alright, Fareeha." Reinhardt reached across the hole int he ice that their hooks were in, awaiting the bite of fish. "Take this time to relax. We can do something more lively when New Year's rolls around, _Ja_?"

There was a pause as both father and daughter were suddenly distracted by a bite on one of their lines - the first bite since they arrived earlier that day.

After Fareeha had managed to get the fish out of the water and into the bucket they had brought with them, her father continued to speak.

"Sometimes, my daughter, all you need to enjoy yourself is good food, good drink, and good company." He nodded towards the bucket. "You caught that yourself, and if it's going to be anything like the last time we went hunting together, it's going to taste much better when we have it prepared in the lodge."

A large hand gave Fareeha's shoulder a reassuring pat.

"Relax!" He laughed. "The year's almost over. Things will get better, but only as long as you believe they can."

It always amazed her how he managed to keep such a positive outlook on life.

He was right though.

The fish was _good._


	22. Good Drink

**Good Drink**

There was something about trains that had always made Fareeha enjoy riding them. A lot of it had to do with the childhood memories of her parents mostly using trains to travel the European countryside.

So when she had been informed that her father wouldn't be available until almost a week after she had gone on leave, she had decided to head to Europe early, flying to Rome and taking the train the rest of the way to Germany.

The trip had been a quiet one so far. She had taken a private compartment that was connected to one of the other rooms through a little common room that resembled one of the booths of a dining car. It wasn't exactly cheap, but she could afford it, and it was much more preferable to staying in a sleeping compartment with three other people.

She may have been a soldier, but she supposed her upbringing made her a little more used to staying in a room by herself when she could help it.

Fareeha chuckled softly before taking a sip of her drink - a bottle of whiskey from her father's collection. She liked to indulge in them on quiet nights like these - as the train began to pull up to a station that was located in one of the quieter towns of northern Italy.

They were nearing the Austrian border, if she recalled.

Minutes later, she could hear voices from the door that lead to the main hallway. It vaguely sounded like someone was shouting while there was a mild scuffle going on.

Fareeha had been contemplating going to the door to see if someone had gone and started a brawl - which wasn't exactly uncommon, she supposed, but perhaps that was just what she had gotten used to - when the door to the booth slid open to reveal a tan woman in a purple hoodie and what appeared to be a designer scarf around her neck.

" _Dios mío_." a leather-clad hand ran through her face before the woman took her first step into the cabin. "You'd think these _idiotas_ would take better care of fragile luggage."

"Well, I can't say I've ever had any problems with my luggage before."

The woman looked to her, and Fareeha found that most of the hair on the left side of her face had been shaved off. It was quite the look, really.

"Lucky you, _Mija._ " The woman replied while moving towards the room opposite Fareeha's and depositing her luggage - a large, black, hardcover suitcase that looked rather heavy based on how she moved - inside her room. "Unfortunately, I haven't been so lucky. I've got some delicate stuff inside that thing."

Fareeha laughed before she took another sip and answered: "The trick is not to let them handle it."

The woman chuckled, before taking the seat across Fareeha. The way she laughed certainly made her sound young, though Fareeha couldn't quite get a handle on her age.

"You sound like you travel these trains a lot."

Fareeha shrugged. "You could say I do. I'm in Europe enough to do so." She paused here before eventually adding: "First time riding the Deutsche Bahn?"

"First time taking the trains of Europe at all."

"Ah." Fareeha smiled into her glass as she drained the remainder of the contents. "You usually take the planes, I take it?" When her companion nodded, she continued: "What made you decide to take the trains this time? People don't normally switch without a reason."

The other woman leaned back against her couch and crossed her legs, her knees peeking over the top of the table between them.

"Oh you know. I've been going in and out of Europe for a while now and I always heard about how you could best see the countryside by traveling through the train, so when when they told me when they wanted me to be around and I found enough time…" She did a big, dramatic wave, gesturing to the cabin around them. She sent Fareeha a self-satisfied smirk. "Here I am."

"Well, I do hope you're having a good time." Fareeha looked out the window and noticed that the train had started to move. Not much longer and the lights of the train station and the little village they were passing through would be long gone and they'd be left to the rolling hills and valleys of the Austrian countryside. "Where are you headed, if you don't mind my asking."

Her companion shrugged. "Russia." Ah, the last stop. "You?"

"I'll be getting off at Munich, so I won't be with you the whole way, unfortunately."

The other woman waver her off. "That's alright. I'm always happy to make new friends."

That brought a smile to Fareeha's lips. "Is that so?" She knew her eyes were shining in the soft light of the cabin and the pale glow of the crescent moon outside the window.

"You're might want to look into taking the train more often then. You meet a _lot_ more interesting people that way." She extended her hand across the table.

"Fareeha." The soldier said.

The woman before her eyed the hand for a split second before looking up to her with a friendly smile.

"Sophia."

"So, what brings you to Russia this time of year?" Fareeha continued as she moved to stand. Her glass was empty and she'd like it to not be right now. "Business or pleasure?"

It looked like she was in good company, after all.

Sophia remained seated, but Fareeha could feel the other woman's eyes follow her to the cabinet.

"A bit of both, really. My coworkers and I have some business to take care of in the Motherland, but I hope to find some time to socialize for a bit."

The soldier hummed as she rummaged through the contents of the cabinet. She knew she left it here earlier…

"What type of business are you in?"

She could almost _hear_ the shrug. "Ah, you could say I work in the business of technology." Fareeha found herself grinning at that.

"You know, Sophia, using the words 'you could say' usually means you don't quite like discussing work with them." Ah! There it was! She reached her hand out and grabbed the darn thing before turning to face her sort-of temporary roommate. "You're not doing anything _shady_ are you?"

She quickly followed this up with a laugh as she walked towards the table.

Was she starting to get tipsy?

Three full glasses of her drink in the last two hours.

Unlikely.

Sophia laughed at this, clearly seeing the humor in what Fareeha said. "Don't you worry about anything, _Mija._ I'm not going to do anything on the train to bother your trip."

This stopped Fareeha for a moment.

"Good. The last time someone did that to me, I shot them dead." She knew her grin was easy, but she couldn't keep her eyes from flashing - or at least if felt that way to her.

Sophia didn't seem perturbed at all, though, switching how she crossed her legs and crossing her arms as well. "Well, it certainly does sound to me that you're quite the soldier, then." With a raised brow the Spanish-speaking woman looked Fareeha up and down. "You seem well-built enough and you've got that easy confidence that comes from being in charge. A colonel in the army, perhaps?"

Again, Fareeha found herself laughing. This was a fun game. She returned to her own couch and set the bottle on the gable, not missing how Sophia's eyes widened.

Ah, she forgot which one she had opened.

"You overestimate me. I was just a captain back when I was serving, and I can't really say I'm still in the service at this point."

"Well, whatever work you have now, it must be quite lucrative, then." Was the traveler's response. "Single-malt, aged for twenty-one years. I'm familiar with that distillery, and it's more than a little pricey." The clear, half-full bottle was filled with amber liquid that shone almost gold in the soft light around them. "So what is it? Private Army? Head of Security? Perhaps you're a spy now, and you're actually on your way to Germany to stop some super secret plot? You should certainly have the experience for it."

"You know your drink?" Fareeha held up the bottle. It was something she had stocked quite a bit of at home, though the rest of her collection might not be of the same quality. Some of it was better.

Sophia smirked and shrugged. "I indulge on occasion. It's hard to avoid, I suppose. I travel a lot."

"Would you like some?"

" _Por supuesto_!" Fareeha laughed at the snap response. Sophia covered her mouth in mock-modesty as she collected herself. "I'm not one to decline good drink, especially from good company."

Fareeha nodded and made her way back to the cabinets. Taking another glass, she walked to the fridge.

"On the rocks?"

"Please."

Fareeha took two cubes of ice and placed them in Sophia's glass before returning to the table and pouring out some whiskey for the both of them.

"Also," The soldier continued once she was settled back in. "You _could say_ that I work in security now."

Sophia sent her a winning smile, getting the joke.

"And I'm actually on my way to Germany to see my father. He's also the one that gave me this particular bottle."

"Ah, planning to spend the winter with family, then?"

"Indeed." Fareeha allowed the grin to show. "We haven't really had time to see each other in the last few months. Work has kept me rather busy."

Fareeha's companion took another sip of her drink, the ice clinking softly in the darkness. Savoring the taste, Sophia hummed before running her tongue over her lips.

"Oh that is good." Then, leaning back, she continued: "Earlier you mentioned that most people that travel by air don't usually switch to using the trains of Europe."

"Yes. More often than not, they end up staying that way - at least those I've met."

"How'd you end up using the trains so much, then?" The Latin woman asked.

"I traveled a lot in my childhood. Both my parents saw a lot of the world because of their work so my mother felt it would be good for me, and she made sure to bring me around whenever she wasn't on duty. We spent a lot of my youth traveling Europe though."

There was something in Sophia's smile that caught Fareeha off guard then, one the younger-looking woman wore while looking intently at her own glass. Something quiet and… perhaps profoundly lonely. The soldier couldn't really say she felt comfortable seeing it, and so chose to look away.

"It sounds like you had quite the lovely childhood, _Mija._ "

Fareeha didn't answer, and neither woman said anything else for a while.

The ice cubes in Sophia's glass clinked against the glass as they continued to melt.

~TtT~

It would be before the fated mission at Volskaya that Sombra would decide to look into her new _friend_.

Oh, that felt different to hear in her head, knowing that there was someone out there that she seemed to have actually connected with, though not in the way that she usually did. Not in the sense that she was going to with Chairman Volskaya once Sombra could get some alone time with the older woman.

She found little difficulty in finding the person she shared the train cabin with on her way to Moscow. It appeared that Fareeha Amari found little reason to hide much of her life from public view, considering she was at most known for being the daughter of one _Captain Ana Amari._

Looking back, the resemblance was rather apparent, but that wasn't what Sombra found interesting at all, no.

It was the fact that Ana Amari had been single for all of her life up until her death, and on official documents Fareeha had _no father._

Which begged the question: Who was her father, then? And why did it seem that she had known the man all her life, if she didn't have one officially.

Well, a father figure seemed a reasonable enough explanation, Sombra supposed, but she'd have liked to dig around anyway.

When her search culminated in an image being displayed on her holo-projector much later, she found herself quite intrigued.

It was around that same time that her communicator rang, the noise filling the quiet hotel room.

Reaper was as no-nonsense-sounding as ever, and Sombra allowed the smirk to show on her face. It wasn't like he could see her, after all.

"Sombra. It's time."

Ah well. It looks like she'd have to continue her search once she and her _compatriots_ were done with their little trip to Volskaya Industries.

That photo of a teenaged Fareeha standing between her mother and a giant of a man with what was quite likely the London Eye in the background was simply _adorable_.


	23. Good Company

**Good Company**

"Fareeha?"

Well, she supposed she should have expected as much for dropping by unexpectedly. Sending her friend a sheepish smile she tried to straighten her back.

It made it look like she was fidgeting instead.

"Hello Lena, I thought I'd drop by for New Years."

Lena Oxton, a younger woman that Fareeha would consider one of her oldest friends, looked at her through the doorway of her London apartment. It had been a few months since they had last seen each other - perhaps when Fareeha had last booked a flight with the airline that Tracer had been working for and found herself being greeted by the Brit through the plane's intercom.

It was nice to run into people she knew whenever she was travelling. She was starting to understand why her father liked to drag Brigitte around with him whenever he was travelling for leisure.

Loneliness would set in every now and then.

Lena opened and closed her mouth for a few moments, grasping for words before finally managing a smile.

"I have to admit it's a bit out of the blue, Fareeha, but I don't see why not!" Fareeha made it a point to return the smile with enthusiasm, and that seemed to have done it for Tracer, too. "Wanna come in? Emily and I were actually supposed to attend this thing tonight. You could join us if you like. It's still a ways away from midnight, though, so - and I'm being _very_ British by doing this - would you like some tea?"

All Fareeha could do was laugh and enter when the door was held for her.

~TtT~

"You know, you could have told us you were coming, Fareeha." Her companion said as she poured herself a drink from the teapot between them. "Emily and I would have been happy to have you."

Fareeha sent one of her oldest friends an apologetic smile and waved her off.

"It was a bit of a spur of the moment thing, you could say." The Egyptian shrugged while nursing her own drink. "I'm thankful your old airline was accommodating enough to suddenly re-route my flight to Germany to London."

Now that got Tracer's eyebrows rise which Fareeha answered to with one of her own.

"I was quite surprised to hear that you submitted your resignation last month, Lena."

Her friend's eyes locked unto the teapot before she sighed.

"Don't get me wrong, Fareeha. I liked the work. It was good, and it was nice to be doing good again after what happened to Overwatch."

"Then why did you leave?"

It was then that the Egyptian got to see the younger woman sway her head from side to side like it was an airplane in itself as Lena tried to answer.

"Well…" Lena deflated, whatever enthusiasm she had been trying to build up seemed to bleed away. "It wasn't enough." Her eyes fell to the teapot between them before taking another quiet sip.

Fareeha nodded, both understanding and happy that she and her friend had kept in touch after truly reuniting during her mother's funeral. She remembers what Lena had told her when they had seen each other again after Overwatch fell. She described her work as 'driving a flying bus', and while it wasn't exactly interesting, it did good and it put food on the table. Lena always said it was good enough for her.

Apparently that changed, and Fareeha had a good idea what might have caused it.

"I also heard about what happened with Mondata."

That caused Lena to raise her eyes to look at the older woman. The Brit looked so small with how she sat, all hunched into herself.

"Lena, you can't possibly-."

"I know." A sigh. "I know, and I know that I did what I could, but it doesn't stop the feeling from being there, Fareeha."

Lena's hands cupped the teacup as she stared into the dark amber liquid. "You feel it, don't you? How the world's been so much more tense this past year. Something's about to happen, I can feel it, and I couldn't act if I was stuck ferrying people around the world."

"So you left."

A nod.

"And so I left."

They didn't speak for a while after that, both women caught up in their own thoughts.

Eventually, Emily returned from wherever it was she had been off to, and she and Fareeha had taken some time to catch up while Lena had gone ahead to prepare for the party.

It would be minutes later that the two old friends would be along again when Emily went to take her turn in the shower.

"You know, Lena, I'd always envied you. I dreamed of joining Overwatch ever since I was a little girl."

There was something in her friend's eyes then, something Fareeha couldn't quite read and it made her feel like she was under heavy scrutiny.

"Maybe you'll still get your chance." Was the reply that came after. "Who knows what the future holds?"

That had not been any of the responses Fareeha had been expected. She had wanted to say that Tracer was lucky to have been able to serve, been able to help and do good in the way that only Overwatch did.

Unfortunately, before she could follow up on the question, Emily came down the stairs and took both women by the arm, and dragged them towards the door.

"C'mon, loves!" The redhead said in an excellent impression of her girlfriend. " _We_ have a party to catch!"

Fareeha laughed, deciding she could be bothered by the specifics of her friend's response later. While this might not have been her original plan to herald in the New Year, she couldn't say she minded.

She was in good company.

* * *

And that concludes the Holiday Chapters.

These were supposed to go down on the twenty-third, but things happened and the season ended up being a bit more busy than I had hoped it would be. In any case. Please also be aware that Good Food and Good Drink had been penned weeks before Reflections was released and don't really take them into account.

Cheers!


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